


The Assignments.

by Strangecat_Ramsey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Corruption, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, Mild D/s, Past Abuse, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strangecat_Ramsey/pseuds/Strangecat_Ramsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Sherlock BBC Kink MEME Fill. Teachers Pet:</p>
<p>Mycroft/Moriarty Sr. (Moriarty's Grandfather)</p>
<p>While at university awkward virgin!Mycroft is an exceptional student. He excels in every academic pursuit but fails miserably on all levels of social interaction until one of university's most renowned and well-loved elderly lecturers takes him under his wing. He encourages Mycroft to use the skills he already has to advance his career and social standing; he teaches him how to act, how to dress, how to eat, how to charm and manipulate or how to disguise his weaknesses… But he is not doing this without an ulterior motive. (For full summary see notes)</p>
<p>Warnings do apply. Also slightly dark on Mycroft's part. Mentions of Past Abuse (Mycrofts Father) and also Mentions of (Almost but didn't happen) Non-Con</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Assignments.

**Author's Note:**

> **A MASSIVE AND I DO MEAN MASSIVE!!! Thanks to Loki_Laufeyson . Who had an extremely difficult time Beta'ing this! Because I was a careless git and should have been paying attention to what I had written. Thankyou again! I really cant say much else other than you are a saint!**
> 
>  
> 
> FULL SUMMARY:  
> While at university awkward virgin!Mycroft is an exceptional student. He excels in every academic pursuit but fails miserably on all levels of social interaction until one of university's most renowned and well-loved elderly lecturers takes him under his wing. He encourages Mycroft to use the skills he already has to advance his career and social standing; he teaches him how to act, how to dress, how to eat, how to charm and manipulate or how to disguise his weaknesses… But he is not doing this without an ulterior motive.
> 
> The thing is, whenever they are alone the professor shows his affection for Mycroft in some entirely inappropriate manner. At first it's only a touch, a manly hug or a casual inquiry about his sexual interests but after a while the touches grow bolder, more intimate - and Mycroft allows this because he hero-worships his mentor without reservations. Soon enough he is letting the professor kiss him on the mouth, caress him, hold his hand; when asked he will sit on a man's lap, take his clothes off, kneel at his feet or pose for a photograph, even pleasure himself in front of him. Eventually, they engage in all kind of sexual activities short of penetrative sex (due to professor's advanced age) but instead of trying that as well Mycroft's mentor asks him to have sex with other students and then to tell him all about it. Mycroft goes along with that too, losing his inhibitions one by one as he lets the professor pick his lovers and instruct him how to seduce them, giving in to the man's ever-increasing demands…

** The Assignments. **

The knock wasn’t exactly unexpected; on the contrary he had been expecting it all day. It would seem fairly odd that a student might be knocking at the door of a professor at this time of night, but this was the most beloved Professor J.Moriarty after all. Students had been coming and going from his residence for well over half a century at all times of night and day.

It was for that reason that his fellow professor didn’t even bat an eye at the knock; she merely stood up and collected her things.

“Enter” The professors gruff, deep voice answered, shooting his colleague an apologetic look, unable to hide his surprise as young Mycroft Holmes entered. The boy was expected, his current state was less so. His colleague was the first to voice her concern, for which he was grateful. 

“Mr.Holmes, what on earth has happened to your face?” She asked, her hand coming up as if wanting to touch it but thinking better of it when the boy flinched away, nearly dropping three fairly large files from beneath his arm.

“Rugby, Professor Moran. Oxford plays a dirty game. Unfortunately, even more so when cornering unsuspecting players after they have lost a game,” Mycroft smiled disarmingly at her, even daring to wink with his one good eye. Her normally stoic, gravely sharp face flushed, while he almost clumsily put down his files so that he wouldn’t drop them.

“Oh dear, I hope you plan on pressing charges?” Moran asked, already knowing better than that, the old competition between Oxford and Cambridge was legendary. They would handle this themselves of course.

“Let us just say that I got my own back Professor and leave it at that. Forgive me, Professor Moriarty would you like me to leave? I just came to drop off my assignments before you left for Ireland,” Mycroft congratulated himself on being able to hide his disapproval on that subject, already having stated his displeasure at his favourite professor’s departure.

“Not at all, Mr.Holmes. Even though I am only leaving for a fortnight I’d be glad for something to mark while I’m alone. Please do come in, Professor Moran was just leaving. She informs me that she is expecting her son to visit tomorrow and must get several things ready.”

“Oh yes. He has the month off on Military Leave at the moment. His first year. We’re all so very proud of Sebastian,” she smiled at both men, her usually icy facade warm during the moments she spoke of her son. 

Moran bid a quick goodbye to the pair with a small kiss on Moriarty’s cheek and a gentle pat on Mycroft’s shoulder, before leaving them to it. The moment the door closed, Mycroft picked up his assignments and placed them beside his professor, heading straight for the drink’s cabinet hidden behind an ornate bookshelf.

“What really happened to your face lad?” Moriarty asked, staring at Mycroft who faced away.

“The answer is in assignment three sir, if you even care to read it,” Mycroft huffed whilst unsteadily preparing a martini for his Professor and a small sherry for himself. His hands shaky from running having to run across the city in the cold. 

“What have I told you about sulking Mycroft?” Moriarty asked, his normally warm voice holding just a hint of steel which made Mycroft stop for just a second as he shook the mixer for the martini.

“Don’t.”

“And yet you insist on doing it? It isn’t very attractive you know?”

“Yet looking ‘moody’ is? What exactly is the difference Professor?”

“Looking moody and being moody are two different things, and it only works on teenage girls. Not gruff old professors, who feel more inclined to kick you out of their home than suffer your sulk. ” 

That did get Mycroft’s attention, he stopped pouring the drink for a moment, sighing softly before accepting defeat. He brought Moriarty his drink before moving to stand beside the fire with his own sherry.

“Do you have something going on with Moran?” He asked, staring into the flames instead of at Moriarty.

“Oh my dear, dear boy. I’m a dirty old man who much prefers the company of men. She is merely an old friend. Does that set you at ease darling?” He asked as his hand moved to caress Mycroft’s palm, not missing the slight tremor in his fingers.

“Yes…I suppose. I still don’t want you going away though. You might meet someone more interesting than myself.” 

It cost him a fair amount to admit to that but he suspected his professor knew it already.

Moriarty smiled at him, putting down his drink. He took a hold of the hand and tugged it to himself. Mycroft followed easily, soon finding himself in the familiar position in his professor’s lap where he felt more at ease and a great deal warmer than he had been a moment ago.

“Is it that cold outside, my boy?” The word ‘my’ was as warm as the feeling in Mycroft’s stomach as he wiggled himself into a comfortable position. A soft sigh escaped him as a warm hand came to rest on his thigh, rubbing small circles. Mycroft knew that this position should have led to embarrassment but it didn’t. Not anymore.

“Much better now…”

“Would you like to have a bath? I could look through your assignments to make certain that they are up to your normal level of perfection before I grade them?”

Mycroft grinned at him, a bath sounded absolutely wonderful right now.

“Good lad. Go stand by the fire and wait for me while I draw a bath.” 

Mycroft scrambled off his lap, standing to wait. The sound of water started up from the bathroom as Mycroft tried to will his erection away fruitlessly, unconsciously biting on his lip trying to concentrate on doing so.

“Mycroft! What have I told you about biting your lip?” Mycroft jumped at the stern voice, instantly releasing his lip, not even realizing he had done it.

He cast his eyes to the floor, not wanting to see the look of disappointment that would be on the older man’s face. He mumbled a small apology. 

“You can do better than that Mr.Holmes. You should look a man in the eye when speaking to him. Try again.” 

That tone, that voice with its gentle Irish lilt; Mycroft tried to stop himself but it was going straight to his groin. Looking up and into Moriarty’s large dark eyes was harder than one would expect, but as it had been one of his first lessons he should have known better than to try and look anywhere else.

“I apologise, professor, “ he answered strongly, standing straight and staring Moriarty right in the eye. The tangible disappointment from the older man simmered away at the firm apology. A strength he expected from the man he planned for Mycroft to become.

“Would you like to make it up to me, Mycroft?” 

Mycroft smiled timidly, waiting to hear how he might do that- knowing, hoping what that might mean. It wasn’t as if he was new to his professor’s requests, but sometimes they did surprise him. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with his body being on display but apparently it was important that he be comfortable with himself. 

“Undress, slowly and sensually for me, right here,” Moriarty smiled.

The art of seduction was an important part to any ambitious gentleman’s repertoire. It still sounded better than a night of learning how to sit up straight, or learning to play poker without any tells. 

Mycroft trusted his professor without question and started with his jacket, quickly finding himself unsure what to do with it. His instincts told him to fold the fine material but he wasn’t sure; there was a definite difference between a quick disrobing for sex and deliberately displaying himself. He looked to his professor for answers, who was able to read him perfectly. 

“Folding your clothes would be too formal in any occasion; it would make your lover feel uncomfortable depending on their own upbringing. However it would be unwise to disregard your expensive clothing, especially if you have arrangements for the following morning and won’t have time to retrieve new clothing. So find a chair and gently lay your clothes over it. Your shoes can be tucked beneath the chair.”

Mycroft smiled at Moriarty and moved back to lay his jacket over a nearby chair, making sure to extend his arm in such a way to show off his body beneath his clothing. His tie shortly followed, dragging it over his neck his eye’s never moving from Moriarty’s, unbuttoning his shirt in a smooth glide of fingers that almost looked as if he was caressing himself. 

His waistcoat framed his now grown into chest and stomach, no longer the awkward, gangly boy he’d first arrived as. He tugged it off, as well as his shirt; both were soon folded over his jacket, his belt following to coil beside his tie.

Folding himself forward in such a way that his muscles shivered beneath the freckled skin on his back, Mycroft untied his shoes, slowly coming back up to share a heated look with his professor. He slid his trousers down to reveal long pale legs. His underwear soon followed. Finally he toed off his socks, leaving him flushed and bare, his fingers twitching to cover himself before his professor but knowing better than to do so. Weakness was not something his Professor would tolerate or humour. 

“Oh that was very pretty darling. I see it’s affected you. To the bathroom with us. Won’t have you catching your death will we?” Moriarty smirked a little. 

In the bathroom, Mycroft’s assignments already sat innocently on the loo and the hot water already fogged up the room. The air smelled sweetly of rosemary and lavender. 

His professor returned, turning off the tap an stepping back to run a hand over Mycroft’s flank. He pushed him toward the bath, saying “Get in before it gets cold lad. Would you like to tell me about your assignments?”

Mycroft smiled in answer, settling back as the first assignment was opened. An impressed look fell over his professor’s face as he scanned the first few pages.

“That was Mrs.Smith. I picked her up at a restaurant. She had a blind date. He didn’t pitch up. Easy target,” Mycroft announced, feeling rather at ease in the warm water where he could hide his body behind bubbles.

“Was she? Divorcee I take it? Not a student as I requested? What part of my assignments did she fall under Mr.Holmes?”

“Acts of kindness in a socially awkward moment. As stated in the title Professor Moriarty, of course. A Divorcee in her late 40’s. Students are boring and self-absorbed by the way; I’ve already had affairs with all the interesting ones as you well know. Mrs.Smith has a teenage son approximately 14 year’s of age and a son about my age. It made it even dirtier for her. But in the same breath gave her that brief taste of youth she craved. An act of kindness because it made her feel wanted, younger. Her next date won’t dump her because she’ll be far more confident. Or have I misjudged the situation?”

When he received no reply, Mycroft continued. 

“She holds some fairly high position in lower government and as a result, when she comes to meet me in the future, for I shall make sure of it, she will think of me kindly and help me as her own act of kindness toward me. Obviously not in her own offices, but I don’t see myself in the city maintenance offices anyway.”

“Tell me in your own words, forgetting the formal script you used in your assignment, about the highlights of your evening with he” Moriarty licked his lip watching the lad’s flushed face, enjoying the new way that Mycroft looked upon the world. 

True, the young, awkward, overweight boy that had once not even been able to maintain a conversation without stumbling over his own words was long gone. A tall, well built, confident young man now lay in the bathtub before him. No longer lisping or stuttering or blushing at the word sex. His innocence taken long ago, on the day he’d come to realize (through some manipulation on Moriarty’s own part of which he was particularly proud) that he wanted his professor to help him gain experience when it came to sex just as he had with everything else.

Moriarty had been incapable of penetrating the lad himself, old age had unfortunately taken its toll on his body. But the way Mycroft squirmed in his professor’s lap, rubbing his erection against his clothed stomach, with three long fingers showing him what it feels like to have something inside him, had definitely been the day that innocent, awkward little Mycroft disappeared.

“She had been sitting at the bar, long enough that the barman was throwing her awkward looks.” Mycroft began, “I sat down, ordered a drink and picked up conversation with her. She was reluctant at first, but when I confessed that I’d ‘ditched’ my friends because they were out girl bating she thought me the perfect gentleman. We had dinner together. Something light. We shared dessert and I offered to take her home. My car impressed her. It made her feel at ease. Not a rundown thing or a rich-boys jag, but a reliable car.

“We drove on toward her home before she asked if I was interested in something more exciting. I thought about feigning naivety but decided that she might feel uncomfortable considering her having a son my age. So I agreed and drove to the nearest B&B. We bought a room. She paid. I made sure she made no excuses. I merely stood by her side, looking imposing, as you taught me, daring anyone to look. No one did of course. It was fairly late at night.”

“My dear boy, stop teasing me, tell me about what I really want to know.” Moriarty scolded good naturedly. Mycroft’s grin was visible even through the mist. 

“As you wish. We entered the room, I took the upper hand, pushing her into the nearest wall and fucking her mouth with my tongue. She moaned like a whore when I stuck my fingers past her wet lacy knickers, making her spread her leg’s as I slid two fingers right into her cunt. My thumb immediately stimulated her clitoris, of course. I let my mouth be dominating and demanding, just like yours is Professor, giving her very little time to breath. The deprivation of oxygen must have given her a light euphoria, she was absolutely giddy. Her first orgasm hit her approximately two minutes later. Her body shook with the pure ecstasy and delight that only my knowing touch might bring her. Exactly what she was hoping for…”

“Mycroft you’ve been reading through my collection of erotica again you naughty boy, stop trying to scandalize me with your swearing . But do go on, it is terribly diabolical, though I might stress to you the importance of remembering that a gentleman never tells.”

“Hmm, I know, but here I’m learning to be brilliant in every way, I’m not a gentleman in this way yet. Anyway. I pulled her from the wall and pushed her to the bed, not giving her a second to recover before ripping her underwear from her legs; I’d managed to roll on a condom a moment later before sinking into her body, right to the hilt. Oh the tacit noises she made at that! I could never have imagined her moans and screams to be so wonderful. I brought her to orgasm twice; she had obviously not felt the touch of a man in a while. I finally relinquished myself into her body, more importantly the condom, before collapsing, stating that I had never managed such a feat before. What feat? I don’t know particularly but I was hoping that she might feel pleased with it.”

“And how was your parting? Those are usually awkward moments,” Moriarty hummed. 

“I stayed the night, I asked her to breakfast, she accepted, clearly surprised that I’d stayed. I said that such a move was too cheap and cowardly for such a lovely woman as herself. We had a lovely meal together and parted ways amicably. I went home to write this assignment. For more details on my psychological profile of her, and my deductions about her character, and how I came to several of my own conclusions please see my assignment,” Mycroft rattled off, with no small hint of smugness in his voice. 

Moriarty huffed a laugh, putting the first assignment down on the nearby sink, “Nicely done my lad, exactly what I asked of you and far more. A+. I’m very proud of you. Truly gentlemanly behaviour.” 

Mycroft’s heart could have stopped at the word proud but instead his cock suddenly bobbed to life. He quickly pushed down the feeling of shame that followed his arousal at being praised. He’d been a disappointment for most of his life; it was so new and intoxicating to find someone that appreciated him.

“Assignment two now? Handsome young man in the photograph. He looks familiar?”

“Ah. Mr.Rodger Fitzgerald. Lord in waiting. Oxford Rugby Captain. I knew that joining Rugby would be good for my social standing amongst the boy’s around here but this was truly a happy occasion for me.”

“What assignment does this fill Mr.Holmes?” He asked quickly, not wanting to show any jealousy at the joy in Mycroft’s voice at his latest mount.

“Camaraderie. How to make friends and influence people.”

“That wasn’t an assignment Mr.Holmes?”

“Oh very well. If you read the heading. “Acts of Domination and Influence”. Better?”

“Much,” he answered sharply, “Get on with it Mr.Holmes.”

“Well, do you remember when you asked me last year what my experiences were with sex, and I informed you none, but you persisted until I told you about the one and only experience with it?”

“Yes. You’d been cornered by several senior visiting members from another public school, and told to preform fellatio? And you managed to get away but still spent the night suffering punishment at the hands of your fellow schoolhouse members, for some stupid reason or other .Was he one of them?” 

He had been trying to find but it had come up with nothing. It had set them back months. He’d finally convinced the lad that it was fun. He had so hoped to get revenge but this would do. 

“Yes he was. I’d returned in time for inspection, dirty from the scuffle and crying. Both are sins as far as they were concerned. I’d spent the night stark naked in the courtyard. He was the ring leader.”

“Any way, after the game this week he cornered me in the locker-room. But I’d been expecting it. I soaped the floor with bath gel. He slid across it with all the grace of a duck and slammed into a wall. After that it was easy.” 

Moriarty’s mouth went dry. Non-consensual sex was something entirely different. Charges could be made. Things could go wrong. They could find out about their relationship. He’d be blamed. Oh god how could this have happened?!

“Relax. Nothing illegal happened. He woke up tied to a bench with the entire team around him. I’d ordered them not to touch him. They knew our history; I was to choose what fate lay before Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“What did you do Mycroft?” Moriarty found himself hoarse and nervous, fearing that he had created a monster. The swollen part of Mycroft’s face, on the side of the wall where he could hide it.

“Nothing,” Mycroft laughed, “Absolutely nothing. I untied him and told him to leave before I changed my mind. He ran out like the dog he is.” 

Moriarty felt more relief than he had in years. Mycroft was a fast learner but this was something he’d never taught. Not really.

“I think you’ve missed the aim of this assignment Mr.Holmes., though I applaud you for initiative, this was an exercise in physical pleasure not practical revenge. If you had done it as the assignment regarding revenge I would have given you an A+, however…”

“It was far more than that Professor. I would have thought that you of all people would understand. Domination. Professor. Domination through a physical act is of course wonderful. However this was far more subtle.”

“Oh? How so Mycroft?” It was interesting to see how Mycroft’s mind worked. The nervous boy that had always second guessed himself was now a totally different creature. Darker but still unwilling to hurt unless necessary. 

“I could have forced myself on him. I thought about it. I thought about letting each of my rugby team mates take turns with him. But then he would have gained sympathy. I may have been arrested. The men whom in that one moment I held power over would have regretted it. Or worse, enjoyed it. Instead I let him go. Right now all of Cambridge is full of the news that I Mycroft Holmes, made the Oxford Rugby Captain piss his pants. That I made him beg for mercy. And sent him on his way back to Oxford with his tail between his legs. Rape is barbaric. Why use a sledge hammer when a chisel will achieve the same affect with far less carnage? I’d never stoop to his level. And by doing so I hold the power over the situation. I’ll take that A+ now professor.”

“My boy. My clever, clever boy. You acted more a man then most men. I’m so proud of you my handsome boy.” He leaned forward, running his old hand over Mycroft’s wet hair, kissing his forehead and smiling as Mycroft leaned in for a kiss. He could not help but marvel at the man his Mycroft had become. Gone was the naive little boy who he had once taken advantage of.

Mycroft groaned at the praise. It echoed right through the cosy bathroom. His cock bobbed up through the few bubbles that had survived however, his professor staunchly ignored it (a rather difficult task), in favour of the last assignment- desperate to know what had happened to his beautiful face. 

“Not yet Mycroft. Now tell me about your last assignment. Which topic did you choose?”

“Revenge through indirect means.”

“A fairly dark, upper grade assignment. I had hoped you would wait awhile before pursuing it, one you became more used to my little assignments.”

“I hadn’t planned to. I grabbed at the opportunity that presented itself.”

Moriarty prepared himself, taking a deep breath before opening the page. He stared at the photo, trying to see if he recognised the man. Greying hair, tall and proud. Handsome, perhaps much like Mycroft would become when he was older. Probably about 50 or so. Worry lines on his face. Obviously in a position of high importance. He looked up at Mycroft, waiting for an answer but getting none. The lad looked slightly distant for a moment before he coughed, alerting him to tell the story. 

“That man is Anonymous. A work colleague of my father’s. He said I could call him Anon if I wanted. My father never calls him by name. He is senior to my father that much I do know. I was home for the weekend and he was in the guest room.” Something about the way that Mycroft said home, sounded bitter and unpleasant to Moriarty’s ears but he waited to hear what had happened.

“We kept running into each other throughout the weekend. Father was away for Sunday morning at church with mother and Sherlock. Sherlock wanted to stay of course. His opinions on religion are surprisingly close to mine. Hardly matters now of course.

“He was in my father’s study reading when I found him. I hadn’t planned on anything yet, but he grinned at me and I sat down and… it was different to some Rugby team mate with awkward fingers, or a middle aged woman who know what they want. It was like with you, professor. But less personal, somehow exciting but lacking?

“I can’t tell you how it happened, but we’d been sitting, talking at my father’s desk, discussing the weather or Cambridge. And before I knew it I was spread over his desk. It was different and dangerous but I had planned for the timing in the unlikely event that I managed to seduce him. My trousers were thrown somewhere in the direction of the door, my boxers still hanging from one leg. It was rough. He prepared me quickly with some of the lubricant I had brought with me. Pretty much self-incriminating I realize, but the risk of not having any on me wasn’t worth it.”

“You slept with your father’s superior?!”

“I did. The stretch of his cock was more than I had expected. It was without end. It felt as if he would never end, professor. A part of me wished that it was you; I tried to imagine it was, rude I know but everything was different. He smelled…different. Felt different. Everything was different. He held me down and it was unnerving. His gaze was knowing, as if he knew all about me. Knew exactly why I was there in that position. It was as if he would have done the same in my position, as if he had done so in the past.

“When he finally moved I thought I would die, but he sped up and… God, the burning and stretching and the sheer fullness of having a man inside me was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My orgasm? Far faster than I had hoped for. Like it was forced from me. But again my timing was perfect. Father arrived home just as planned.”

Moriarty swallowed tightly. The image was provocative and he wished he were a decade younger so that he might have shown Mycroft such pleasures. But he would not feel sorry for himself, for he had already taken far more for himself from the boy than anyone ever should. He had stolen Mycroft’s innocence, something that no one would ever be able to do again.

“He was so close to following me in orgasm but then father walked in on us. I managed to turn my head to the side to see his face. Dark and stormy, I had ever seen him so enraged before. Anon had the good grace to pull out and leave us, though he kindly offered to stay. Father was left in an awkward position of course. Anon is his superior. He couldn’t say what he wanted to so he would say it to me instead. Anon threw my trousers in my direction as he left.”

“I had my trousers on as the door closed. I knew my revenge would work, I would ruin my father in ways he had never expected I could. Revenge for all his years of abuse and bullying. For sending me away to public school to grow up and be a man when I should have been home with mother and Sherlock . For daring to hurt mother and for treating Sherlock like a freak. I would have the last laugh. His son reduced to a common whore on his desk, begging for more. We met eye to eye for the first time I can remember. He was sizing me up, coming to understand that I wasn’t the little boy that left for university anymore but the grown man he had tried to force me to become a decade earlier. And for the first time I read fear in his eyes when he knew the game I was playing

“And then it was gone, he’d hardened himself to show no fear. The first honest moment we had shared and he managed to hide it. I opened my mouth to tell him that I wouldn’t be back and he just… he punched me!” Mycroft laughs, slightly hysterically, “I wasn’t too shocked. I’d expected worse. I left, packed my bags and walked out of the house. The sound of him screaming about inheritance and not paying for university followed me down the drive. Of course, I have a scholarship or I’d never have dared try such a thing. I could never lose you professor.” 

They both knew that he probably would look back on that incident one day with some ounce of regret, but not anytime soon. “Any regrets lad? Conclusions?”

“Only that I shall miss Sherlock. And as for conclusions? I will one day be Mr.Anon. I will hold all the cards and men will fear me. Why will I be Mr.Anon? Because that is my goal and I always get what I want.”

Moriarty stared at the young man in the tub and couldn’t help but agree that he would become whatever he wanted to be, by whatever means necessary. 

“Good Lad. A+. Come along the bath’s gotten cold”

Moriarty stood, holding out his hand to help Mycroft out of the tub. He dried him off gently, pressing small kisses against his jaw, across the crease of his brown, down the slope of his nose, wishing only slightly for the unsure, frightened lad that Mycroft once was. He seemed to be growing up far too quickly.

Moriarty led him into the bedroom, settling him into bed, surprised to find him still hard. And yet, he looked up to his professor with a wide uncertainty. He wanted to know that he was a good boy and that it would all be alright (there was still some of that untainted youth in him, even if it only expressed itself under Moriarty’s gaze). Mycroft wanted to be assured that what he had done wasn’t folly. 

“Stroke yourself, Mycroft. You did such a good job on your assignments; you must be tired and strung-out? I am so proud of you,” he whispered, pulling the younger man to rest against his chest.

“May I have your touch, sir?” Mycroft whined, arching his hips to push his cock into the air invitingly. 

He looked up at Moriarty with large, begging eyes, letting him know that he might have grown up but in this office he would always be under his professor’s command.

“No backtalk, Mr.Holmes, do as you’re told.” He snapped, fingers running through Mycroft’s hair, his eyes firm and unwavering.

Mycroft pouted, reluctantly taking himself into hand and staring away from his professor. He still felt as if he’d never get used to being so open with anyone. This was one of the most private things he had ever done, and to have someone watching him left him feeling at a loss.

“You can’t still be embarrassed Mycroft? You’ve done this quite a few times now. We even have the tapes and videos. Why are you so reluctant? You must know that you are beautiful like this.”

Mycroft could feel the blush working from his freckled shoulders up to the edge of his hairline. 

“This feels so private, professor. Vulnerable.” He answered, hoping that would get him off the hook. 

“This will help you my poor dear. If you can get over this little hiccup you’ll be far more confident. Your body is not something to be embarrassed about. It’s beautiful, my boy. Lose your inhibitions but respect yourself, Mycroft, and you’ll master yourself.”

The warmth in his tone was enough to make Mycroft’s hand shake, driving him closer to the point of damnation. He couldn’t, he stilled his hand. This wasn’t something he wanted to give over. Bringing himself off for his professor felt shameful but his cock was so hard, his orgasm already building at the base of it, deep within his balls like the rolling sound of thunder in the horizon, warning of an imminent storm.

Moriarty wrapped his old, worn hands around Mycroft’s, guiding his movement enough to let the boy lose his inhibition. Mycroft’s breath hitched. He arched up into it before suddenly giving himself over to the pleasurable spasms. He allowed the older man to force his hand to keep moving until he had become completely boneless and spent. 

He felt Moriarty rub his seed into his belly, dragging it in patterns. He felt the professor’s wet sticky fingers press against his lips, and he took them into his mouth, cleaning the fluid off with his tongue. 

Mycroft sighed, sated, happy and received a possessive kiss in return. It was hard and demanding, Moriarty’s tongue slipping over his, allowing him to forget everything.

He would have protested as he felt his professor move to leave, but he was too tired. He returned soon after with a warm, wet cloth and cleaned Mycroft off, tucking him in with all the care of a parent before returning to his own side to sleep awhile. Old age had not allowed him much time to sleep these days, but at least he could spend his waking hours watching his lad sleep. Which was almost as good. 

Perhaps in the morning he could invite the young man to Ireland as an aid. His grandson might like to meet one of his students. A new assignment could be assigned. But in the morning, a nice breakfast with the lad at his feet accepting scraps off his plate would be in order. 

Mycroft needed to be reminded that he wasn’t as powerful as the man he’d called Anon. Not yet. Knowing Mycroft Holmes however, he would understand the power in allowing his own submission. God help Britain.

fin.


End file.
